opps. its here guys long and heavily unedited...but here nonetheless

natsu doesnt understand that things cost money, happy is natsu's dad, and martha just wants to sleep

Chapter 7

"late night conversations with idiots"

"Guys...? Guys. Guys...Are we all just gonna ignore the fact that you hit me over the head with a metal bat?"

Happy sipped his tea quietly, keeping his wide eyes trained on Natsu. And Martha just rolled her eyes. Again.

She has been sat on her leather comforter, drinking tea with a magical talking cat, for the last thirty minutes and Dragneel was still complaining.

He was clearly well enough to keep mumbling under his breathe and whining like some sort of spoilt brat. She had expected more from a member of the greatest guild in Fiore, especially a member as renowned and destructive as The Salamander. But here he was on her living room floor, moaning and groaning like she had given him brain damage or something.

He was honestly being so ridiculous. She hadn't even hit him that hard.

(If anything he should be thanking her. That knock to the noggin seemed to have pulled him out of his drunken stupor. And if he was lucky she may have even knocked a couple marbles back into place because god knows he needs.)

But it was to be expected she guessed.

This generation of Fairy Tail was clearly more sensitive than the one she had previously known, which made sense when she considered how mushy Makarov was. The old lug always seemed to be spouting some inspirational drivel nowadays and these fairy tail kids―especially those like Dragneel who had been raised on long winded speeches, magical mayhem and the wise words of an old fool―were no different. Makarov, for all the masculine pride of his youth, had always been a big softy for little children and so she hadn't been surprised to see his guild filled with a colorful collection of children once he had become Master. And while every members of his guild was his family, she knew that those bright, sad eyes of each unwanted, unloved child that made Fairy Tail their home had given each one a special place in his overly large heart. She understood what he was trying to do. Giving a home to all these victims, even one as nontraditional as Fairy Tail, had been a kind gesture on his part but still. These were children. They were so delicate, so easy to break. Especially when the world had already left so many of them cracked and chipped. Children needed somewhere to call home, and while bricks and mortar would never take the place of a loving home, there was no substitute for stability. And if there was one thing a wizard guild was not, it was stable. And even though Makarov had to admit this, he had still carted in those children by the dozen. And despite the fact that she would rather do anything else than involve herself in another of Makarov's impulsive ideas, she had been worried.

So she had warned him that he was being extremely irresponsible―acting all crazy and reckless and damn near parental―and that it would only hurt the kids. Scar them for life or stunt their development or something.

But he hadn't cared. And as he had so polity reminded her, it wasn't really any of her business. And so she had dropped it.

And when you considered all that? It wasn't that far-fetched to believe that a whole thirty minutes since her bat had connected with his skull, Natsu, a fairy tail wizard, was still whining.

But come on...

She had hit Makarov with the exact same bat on numerous occasions and the longest he ever stayed on the floor was two minutes. And even though Martha was sure his physical resistance had all been down to that thick skull of his, she also knew that Master Precht would have had a fit if found out that all it took to incapacitate his star wizard was a knock to the head. And there was no one, living at least, that Makarov did not want to disappoint more than Precht. Martha, for the life of her, could never understand why. That man, kind and wise though he had appeared, had always felt…wrong. There was always something of about him, something just slightly off kilter. That was the overwhelming sense that she got from the Master whenever he had been near her. It made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and her hands get clammy like something in the universe was rejecting him, and her body was warning her to do the same. It was always a...small feeling. So tiny that if you were lost in the splendor of his position and the faux kindness of his words, you would miss it. Makarov had missed it. Or if he hadn't, he had completely ignored it. But she hadn't, she had seen it―felt it―whenever that man had been near. He was smart―too smart―and dark in the exact same way as the other side of the moon was dark and shady and he had always had very little time for weakness. It has shown in the slight cracks of his happy face, the angry furrow of his brow when his wizards had fail a mission or lost a contest, the darkness that echoed through the false comfort he'd give his ego stricken companions. And, even though he would never admit it, it was the reason the Makarov got off that floor every day.

Martha had never cared for him very much.

Okay.

So maybe this kinder, genuine version of Fairy Tail wasn't all bad. Because that brightness that enveloped Fairy Tail these days? That was the reason that Natsu had yet to sit on the chair she had pulled up for him, and was currently lying on his back nursing a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits.

God. Maybe she was getting soft in her old age too.

"You're fine, though." She said, shooting him a pointed look. "Right?"

He replied with a rather unenthusiastic and incoherent "I guess…" which was muffled by the sheer number of biscuits that he had managed to stuff into his mouth. But it didn't matter that he was basically grunting like some kind of ape (although it did matter that he was getting crumbs all over her very expensive, very rare black Vulcan skin rug), she knew he was okay.

His little blue friend―he had told her his name was Happy, she knew that, but…really? ―had inspected every inch of the dragonslayer as he was lying on the floor groaning obnoxiously loud and made sure his friend had a clean bill of health before turning to address her. He had then suggested, rather rudely, that she shouldn't have hit his friend as hard as she did. Mouthy little cat. For all his bravado, all it had taken was an extra heated glare and the sight of the silver bat in her hand to shut him up. And once the cat was quiet, she'd quickly informed him that if his friend didn't stop groaning so damn loudly―she swore the sound of it had shaken the walls―she would be forced to hit him again. Harder. Needless to say Happy was at his friend's side, with one blue claw covering the dragonslayer's mouth before she could even blink.

It was a good thing too.

The last thing she needed was for someone to stumble in on this odd little scene and draw some more far-fetched conclusions. She did not need another 'flame pervert' to deal with. But Martha was still surprised that no one had come running into her apartment yet. After all the clanging and banging that had occurred and the following string of expletives that had filled her apartment once she realized just who was laid in a heap on her living room floor, she had thought that someone would have knocked on her door at least. But, no. Nothing. It really was no wonder that someone had been sneaking into the building for so long, her tenants were clearly all deaf. Or clueless.

(She spared a moment to wonder how, in their pleasant little town that just so happened to always be under attack, any of them were still alive.)

Martha had then decided that the situation could not, in fact, get any stranger and so headed into her kitchen to get something to drink.

She had no qualms about leaving the two boys all alone in her living room. Not when it was nearly three a.m. and she was sure standing there any longer would result in her killing someone out of sheer frustration. And she didn't really feel like going to jail tonight.

So really? What was the harm? What more damage could they do to her already wrecked living room?

With that sorted she had stepped over the boxes that were still littering the floor to reach her fridge, with another loud curse as she stubbed her toe. She was unprepared to face Natsu, or anyone really, at this time of night. Or morning. Damn. She really wasn't a morning person and coupled with the fact that this may or may not be the man who is ruining her reputation and threatening her cash flow, she was in a terrible mood. But as much as she would have loved to throw both the man and the cat out the window and call it a day (Or night. Whatever. ), she really needed to get to the bottom of all this. And throwing a dragon sized fit wasn't going to get her any closer to solving it. And so, silently preparing herself for all the stupid that was sure to make up the rest of her night, she quickly put together a platter of biscuits and filled a teapot with Jasmine before stepping back into her living room.

Natsu had still been curled up on the floor, but Happy, who now looked thoroughly unimpressed, had been seated on her leather couch. A painting, one that had also been very expensive, was now torn on the floor. And there were paw marks on the ceiling. But, using an inner strength that may have even come from her first conscience, she had resisted the urge to murder them. And so she sat next to the tomcat, without commenting on the fact that his blue fur was getting all over her couch, and offered the cat some warm milk. The three of them had then preceded to sip their respective cups quietly―the only sound had come from the manner less dragonslayer chomping on chocolate chip cookies― and skilfully ignore what had just transpired.

That is, until Natsu's outburst.

Well.

She supposed now was as good a time as any to start asking questions.

Finally, the hag exclaimed, all this nicety was getting so boring. Now we get to have some real fun.

Reining in the sharp words her second conscious suggested, Martha took a deep breath.

"Mind telling me why you were scaling the walls of my apartment building this late at night?" She asked, placing her teacup on top of its coaster as if all this was perfectly normal. She decidedly ignored the twin rings now adorning her very expensive glass table. "Or, you know, at all really." She looked at him. "Yes. Why were you climbing my walls at all? That would be helpful."

"Huh?" Natsu rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully. He looked confused. Or maybe, Martha thought, that was just his face. "Scaling your…what are ya talking about, lady?"

"You dropped in through my window. Your winged friend wasn't with you at the time." She deadpanned. "So you obviously climbed up the wall."

"I climbed up the wall? Really?" Natsu asked. She nodded and suddenly his entire face lit up like a firework." Really! Awesome! How high up are we? Do you know how fast I made it up here? Has anyone ever climbed up here before? Actually…"He paused and looked around the room. "You got any idea where we are Grams?"

Happy spluttered, eye widening in fear. The hag snickered. And Natsu just blinked at her.

Martha, for the good of her mental health, ignored it all.

"We're at 10 Strawberry St. You know? The big apartment block by the shopping center?" He nodded. Happy finally looked up from his fish crackers, eyes wide with realization." And to answer you're other questions: we're three floors up. That's how far up you made it. A couple of people have tried it before." She glared openly at the dragonslayer. He didn't even flinch." Don't call me Grams."

"That's so weird." Natsu said, reaching for more biscuits. "I don't even remember climbin' up here."

Denial? Oh. Or maybe amnesia. The hap said, in a giddy tone that grated on Martha's nerves. That has the potential to be interesting.

"You don't?" Martha and Happy both asked.

"Just how much did he drink?" She asked, loudly.

Happy cut the dragonslayer off before he could answer, with an exasperated sigh.

"Drink? I don't know. I kind of lost track of him at the guild. Probably a couple bottles of fire whiskey." He turned to her. "Why does it matter?"

Martha nearly choked.

"Define a 'couple'."

"He usually has three or four. But we're celebrating a job we just finished so it could have been more." Happy said, as if that wasn't already more than enough to give someone liver failure. "Is that strange?"

Martha ignored him and turned to Natsu instead.

"How are you still alive?"

He smile, sharp teeth bared as he bumped a clenched fist against his torso.

"Fire Dragon's Belly."

Martha tried not to sound as impressed as she was. "And you're not drunk? At all?"

Natsu shook his head.

"I don't get drunk."

"How is that even possible?"

"I'm not too sure 'bout all the science stuff," Natsu started, "but Levy once said something about my "ridiculously high body temperature", the boiling point of alcohol and evaporation. Which basically translated to "no hang overs for life, ya lucky fire breathing bastard"." Martha quirked an eyebrow. "At least that's she said. She might have been drunk at the time."

"So you scaled the side of my building completely sober," she looked between the blue cat and the dragonslayer, "but you don't remember doing it?"

"Well…yeah?" He sounded unsure." It's honestly kind of hazy."

Martha glared at him. "And you expect me to believe that?"

"Why…" He trailed off. "Why wouldn't you?"

"Because it sounds crazy. What kind of idiot scales up the side of an apartment building for no reason? Why wouldn't you try to use the door?"

"Oh, Natsu never uses the door." Happy answered, gnawing on the fish shaped crackers.

Martha felt something in her snap, and for once the wicked cackle of the hag didn't sound so bad.

"Never?" She said in a voice that was even and flat and very, very scary. Happy dropped his cracker as her gaze settled on him, and gulped. "Just how often does he scale the side of my apartment building, huh, little kitten?"

"Well…um…you see, ma'am…" Happy scrambled for a response. He cast a pleading look at his pink-haired companion, but was met with nothing but those same mischievous onyx eyes and an amused smirk littered with cookie crumbs. "It's just that…"

Martha, who had zero patience at three a.m. and would later blame her phrasing on the ridiculously late hour, said, "What? Cat got your tongue?"

The sound of Natsu Dragneel's laughter suddenly, and loudly, filled the room, startling both her and the little tabby cat. She turned to him and watched him, head thrown back and hands gripping his sides, as chuckles seemed to rip through the young dragonslayer. Perhaps, she thought, he is drunk after all. A few more moments passed punctuated by Natsu's loud laughter, Happy's frightened expression, and Martha's worsening mood before she decide that enough was enough.

"Are you the flaming pervert that's been scaring away all my potential tenants?"

Both Happy and Natsu seemed to freeze.

Natsu's cheeks were still stained pink from his laughter when he mumbled, "Flaming….? Flaming Pervert?"

Happy had his head cradled between his little blue paws as the little kitten cursed.

Seeing as neither seemed to be offering up any explanations, she elaborated.

"It had been brought to my attention," she looked at the cat and the oversized child, "gentleman, that a rumor is circulating around our little town. One that has a personal baring on the performance of my retail business. One that threatens my livelihood." Martha glared at both of them. "One that pisses me the hell off." She turned her attention to the pink-haired dragonslayer. "And one that may just involve you, Dragneel."

"Me?"

"Yes." She shot him another look. "You. Maybe. I'll know for certain if you let me know the last time you used the door to enter my establishment."

And then you can kill him with a clear conscience. The hag pointed out. Or at least a clear second conscience anyway.

"The door? I don't think I've ever used that door."

That was when Martha lunged. Luckily for the startled dragonslayer the glass table made it hard for her to strangle him, so she was left grasping at air and cursing profoundly. But she found a small victory in the wide eyed shock painting his features.

This was it. It was him. She knew it now. The reason she had spent these last few weeks agonizing and sneaking and worrying was sat right there in front of her. And all she could feel was...anger. She had thought―during one of the first nights sat up with her binoculars balanced on her nose and her back pressed against the lumpy, old couch―that it would feel different. She thought that after finally getting to the bottom of this stupid situation she had been dropped into, she would feel, well, relieved. Because although she would never admit it out loud―she had been kind of scared. As pathetic as it was, her business, her success, meant everything to her. And that had been why while those Fairy Tail idiots had integrated themselves so deeply into her life that she wasn't sure how to remove them without losing a part of her being, she had never felt like she belonged. Like she was one of them. And it had very little to do with the lack of magic or guild mark and everything to do with her. With who she was. While they had had everything they needed in that rickety old guildhall, she had lost everything she had on those concrete steps that she had soaked in her tears. They had a family, a sense of self found through years of companionship. She didn't have that, she didn't have anything. Her everything had left her with broken promises, a broken heart and an apartment filled with ghosts. While the others had grown up to have families and magic and love, she had grown up to have…this. A retail empire that she had sacrificed and bled and cried for. She had to build herself a legacy, an identity. A new start. And that was what her business was to her. It was her second chance.

This rumour had almost taken that from her.

And that was why when she looked at them all she could see was red.

"What wrong, Grams?"

She sat back.

"Natsu? Happy?"

"Yes." They both replied.

"The only thing preventing me from killing the both of you right now is a strong desire not to go to jail."

Both boys gulped. "Yes, ma'am."

"I never want to see you climbing up these walls again," her voice was trembling, but she didn't mind so much because both boys looked rightfully terrified, "do you understand me?"

There was a long moment of rather awkward silence and Martha thought that was the end of it all. That she could put this all behind her. That was, until Dragneel finally spoke.

"I-I can't."

Defiance too? The hag exclaimed. I like this boy. He knows how to keep things interesting.

"What?"

"I can't." He said. To his credit his voice had stopped trembling and he had finally looked her in the eyes. "I can't come through the front door."

"And just why not? Is there some kind of rule that demands you enter through windows like some kind of bald ape? Is Lucy physically unable to let you through the front door? Please, enlighten me as to why exactly you insist on behaving like some kind of barbarian and ruining the reputation of the business I worked so hard to build. Why?"

A sudden intake of breathe could be heard as she finished her rant, her eyes dropped to Happy. His eyes were wide as if he had just remembered something important, and he was fidgeting nervously with the end of his tail. His gaze was locked on Natsu, who had shifted to lean against the back wall with his right knee raised and his head lowered casting a shadow over his features. For once he was not animated, no longer fidgeting and shuffling and turning as he had done all night. Yep. This was the stillest she had seen him since he had crashed through her window. And she wasn't sure why, but she was sure the sudden change wasn't a good thing.

Natsu muttered something at the floor.

"You want to speak up there, dearie?" She asked, brow furrowed.

"I'm sorry about your business, lady, but…." His voice was heavy and brittle, worlds away from the lively tone his voice had before. " I'm not sure she'd let me in if I used the door. At least not now."

Martha had always been the type of person to leave well enough alone. She enjoyed it even. There is no better feeling in this world than financial success, but the joy associated with minding your own damn business? That was a close second in her books. So, had this been any other day, any other time, any other person she would have done exactly that. All she wanted was for this ridiculous rumor to stop, and she was sure with a little more yelling and a lot more threatening she would have gotten exactly that but…there was something about the look on their faces. The sudden dullness in their eyes and the slump of their shoulders as she saw both Happy and Natsu's deflate right in front of her that pulled at something within her―perhaps the compassionate, maternal part that had yet to give up or maybe it was just the hag's desire to extend her suffering―and so she asked.

"Now, why not?"

Natsu remained still, his stance stiff as if he didn't trust her. Not that she exactly blamed him. She had basically assaulted his guild masters a few days ago. Not to mention the fact that she did just threaten him and his cat with death by blunt force trauma.

But Happy…

His voice was small and for once it seemed to match is tiny, plush body. "She's mad."

Martha turned to him. "Mad?"

He nodded. "And a little sad, I think."

Natsu mumbled something under his breathe that sounded like a cross between a curse and "Drop it, Happy". She ignored it.

"And why is that?"

Happy twitched nervously, sparing a glance at the irritated slump that had become Natsu Dragneel. "Natsu?"

The man in question let out a noncommittal sound and his body language gave away nothing.

Happy turned to her. "Lucy's mad at him."

She raised a brow.

"Is that anything new?"

"She's really made at him." Happy reiterated. "She didn't even welcome him back. Just got up and left. She looked really upset."

"Hmmm. So that's why she was all mopey today." Yes, that made sense. "I'm guessing she doesn't usually lock herself in her room after a tiff with you?"

Natsu raised his head.

"She lock herself..." He stopped mid-sentence, like he'd just thought of something and narrowed his eyes at her. "Wait. How do you know she locked herself in her room?"

Martha ignored him, and turned to Happy. "So what did he do to tick her off?"

"God. Where do I start?"

Natsu intervened.

"Don't listen to him. He doesn't know what he's talkin' 'bout."

"For the love of Mavis, Natsu, that is a lie." Happy interrupted. "I know all about this whole…thing between you too."

"Yeah?" His voice took on a childish tone, which, when considering he was conversing with a blue talking cat, made the situation all the more ridiculous. "And how the hell would you know?"

"I'm your best friend." Happy replied, matter-of-factly. "And don't forget, Natsu: you left me too. You. Left. Me. And I've been stuck here these last few days listening to Lucy whine and mope and complain because of you." Happy narrowed his round eyes. "So I think I have a better idea of why she doesn't want to see you than you do right now."

Natsu slammed his jaw shut, as if Happy's words had hit him a tad too hard, and grunted like an oversized toddler. Again.

"So…" She looked between the two boys, before deciding she would sooner get an answer from Happy than the stubborn slump that Natsu had become. "Why doesn't she want to see him?"

"He left her." Happy said, plainly.

"He left her? But didn't he leave you too?"

"Well, yeah."

"So why is she so mad?"

"He left her." He said it like it was supposed to mean something, and as far as Martha could tell it didn't.

"And what does that mean?"

"Everything." Happy said.

"Nothing." Natsu mumbled.

Clearly something was going on here, not that Martha was exactly sure what, and whatever that something was, was preventing Natsu from entering her building like a normal person. And that just wouldn't do.

"You." She pointed at Natsu. "Why did you leave Lucy?"

He grunted in response. She stood up, walked around the table, and smacked him upside the head.

"Ow!"

"Stop being difficult. I'm trying to help you."

"You're trying to help yourself." He answered back. She raised her hand. "…ma'am?"

"Same thing. I help you and you help me, okay? Now do you want to talk to Lucy?"

He looked up at her. "Well, of course I do! She's my best frie-"

Ignoring Happy's indignant cry of "Hey!" in the back ground, she cut him off.

"Then let me help you."

"How can you help?"

"Let's just say I have a knack for understanding people."

"A knack…"

Call it intuition, call it magic, doesn't matter. All that matters is that I know people." She looked him directly in his eyes "And from where I'm standing? It looks like you don't. Or at least you don't know Lucy."

He frowned. "I know Lucy. She's my be-"

"Best friend. I know." She rolled her eyes. "If you know her so well, then what's bothering her?"

"I…well…"

"Exactly." She said. "Listen. I want you to stop climbing up the side of the walls like some discount superhero. You want to talk to Lucy. I can help you with that."

"Okay…I guess."

"Great. I'm going to need you to tell me what happened…"

"Well, that's easy." He interrupted. "She's been acting strange ever since I got-"

"Wait." She intervened." Do you know what time it is?"

"Umm…"

"It's three a.m. It is three a.m. and I haven't slept for the last four days. And my window is broken. Do you think I want to hear whatever ridiculous situation you got yourself into right now?"

"Oh yeah. Right." He rubbed his forearm awkwardly. "Sorry."

"Oh, you will be." She looked back only to find Happy asleep and drooling on her leather couch. Ew. What you're going to do is pick up your little buddy over there and leave."

"Well, okay. But when will I-"

"Come back tomorrow. We can talk while you fix my window."

"Oh okay."

Moments later, Natsu had an unconscious Happy tucked neatly under his arm and the remainder of his biscuits stuffed in his pocket like some kind of hermit.

"Tomorrow?" He said.

"You bet."

He moved to shake her hand, but his arm brushed against her very expensive purple drapes and they burst into flames. His eyes widened and he nearly dropped Happy as he tried to extinguish the flames. She stared, in complete honest-to-god disbelief as her right drape became nothing more than ash and the left was left charred.

Natsu looked over at her nervously. She continued staring at the ash and wondering just when this became her life.

"Well, you still have the right one. Right?" He offered. She didn't move. "It's only a little bit on fire. You can still use it."

The temperature in the room dropped, and even the fire wizard shivered, as she turned to look at him.

"Natsu?"

He nodded. "Yes?"

"Leave."

Natsu dropped the ash onto the floor and moved towards the broken window.

"Natsu?"

He froze, one foot out the window and eyes wide. "Yes?"

"The whole town does not need to see you creeping out my window like some kind of pervert. Use the goddamn door."

"Okay."

this was fun to write but hardddd. hope you liked it anyway.

and thank you all for 65 follows! woah!

let me know what you thought!

R&R